For Love
by ricetard
Summary: The world is not as bright as you make it to be. / Dumbledore/Grindelwald, slash, oneshot


**For queer(underscore)fest on LJ. Prompt was "Albus Dumbledore(/Gellert Grindelwald?), knowledge of how Muggles feel about homosexuality (i.e. the whole illegal thing) helps convince him that taking over the world really IS for the Greater Good."**

**Reviews are nice :)**

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Gellert is beautiful, Albus thinks as he watches his friend laugh and dance around the backyard. His golden locks fly about behind him as he dances and twirls, his blue eyes shining and beaming. The sun is no match against his face—Gellert's eyes glow brighter than anything in the world.

Gellert takes Albus's hands and says, "Albus, why are you standing there like some crazy old man? Join me!"

"I'm not a crazy old man," says Albus, though he's grinning. He lets Gellert guide him around, watches as Gellert play with magic in the air, wordlessly, wandlessly. Gellert's always been a talented wizard. Albus is not jealous, but enamored.

Gellert spins and spins them around, twisting them in the breeze, lifting them up in the air so that Albus feels like he's part of the wind himself. When they're finally done and Gellert lets them rest, Albus is wordless, breathless.

"You're too good at this," he teases Gellert, though there is no rancour in his words.

Gellert closes his eyes and combs his fingers through his hair. He cracks an eye open and shoots him a grin. "You could do it too, you know, if you want," he says. "Better."

"Yeah, but..." Albus shrugs. He doesn't know. They've always had this method of using the magic together, artistically, but to their own preferences—Albus likes music, likes the work of tunes that are universal in sound. Gellert has always liked nature. And yes, Albus knows that their magic is equally matched, but Albus has always had a talent of making things go the way they want him to, has always had more control. Gellert is loose, free.

Gellert touches Albus's hand. He smiles. "I know," he says, and Albus knows he does. Gellert grins and flops onto the ground. "Now let's look at the clouds!"

"Let's!" Albus agrees, and flops down with him even though they're both eighteen-year old boys. He doesn't feel like a child at all.

"That one's a rabbit," says Gellert, pointing at a large puffy cloud in the air: automatically it turns into a very realistic form of a rabbit, and starts hopping around in the sky. Albus laughs aloud.

"And that's a crup." Gellert points to another cloud. It grows ears and opens its mouth, as if barking, and starts chasing the rabbit around.

Albus laughs again. "What about that one?" he asks, pointing to a slightly deformed looking cloud.

Gellert gazes at it, and then regards it with a grimace. "That one's a Muggle," he says, waving his arm, and automatically it turns into the form of a man, with a knife and a gun. It starts shooting the other clouds, destroying them.

"Horrible things, aren't they?" says Gellert.

Albus gazes at the supposed Muggle-cloud. "Yeah," he says softly.

He hears a shifting movement beside him, and turns his head. Gellert is facing him, smiling.

Then Gellert suddenly pounces on him and is straddling Albus's hips. Laughing, Albus does his best to bat him off, though he knows that he doesn't want Gellert to get off of him at all.

Gellert leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Albus's lips. "Have I ever told you what Muggles do to people like us?" he whispers, ever so slightly.

Albus stares into Gellert's bright blue eyes. "Wizards?" he asks.

Gellert shakes his head. His golden curls, so close to Albus, brush against his cheek. "No," he says. "Us." He gestured between the two of them. "Blokes who like other blokes."

Albus frowns at Gellert. "No...? I've heard some things," he says, "but it doesn't sound that much different than from what wizards and witches do." The Wizarding world is barely tolerant of homosexuals and the like; most pureblood families want their sons to carry on the family name. Though it's possible for homosexual couples to breed using magic, Albus knows that the methods are generally looked down upon.

But Gellert just shakes his head. "It's worse," he says. "Come on, I'll show you."

He gets up off of Albus and offers his hand out. Albus hesitates—but then he takes it anyways.

Suddenly, they're swirling through the air, transporting somewhere else. Albus is, as always, impressed by Gellert's wandless and nonverbal magic, the magic he had learned at Durmstrang (though sometimes Albus wonders if Gellert, like him, had learned some on his own.) Albus has always been in love with magic. It's one of the things he finds important, he finds beautiful. Magic is the way of life, the way that everybody should live. And those who don't know magic, who don't understand it—Muggles, like the ones who had harrassed Ariana—deserve to die.

Albus finds himself somewhere south in Scotland when they land. They hadn't Apparated, Albus knows—he's familiar with the feeling—so he wonders what exactly Gellert had done. He opens his mouth, about to ask him; but then Gellert turns to him and makes a hushing gesture and Albus knows not to say anything.

Gellert points toward the center of the town they had landed in. Albus peers up ahead. There's a large wooden stick, a stake, with hay and rocks surrounding it. Tied to the stick are two boys, wide-eyed and fearful.

"Light the fire!" calls a man a little ways off from the stake. Another man, with a large torch in his hand, nods at the man and brings a flame to the torch.

The first man walks up to the two boys on the stick and looks up at them, a wicked smile on his face. "Well, boys?" he says to them. "Any last words?"

"We won't apologize!" shouts one of the boys. "Ever! It's who we are!"

"We love each other!" says the other.

The man laughs. "Look what your love got you into," he jeers, nodding to the ropes that bind them.

The second boy spits in his face. The man draws back, looking disgusted.

"Set down the fire!" he instructs the man holding the torch, who nods and does as instructed.

Albus feels a chill run down his spine, and he's about to turn to Gellert to ask him about this. But then suddenly Gellert grabs his shoulder and they're spinning off toward someone else.

This time they're somewhere in Ireland. Gellert silently guides them to the streets—Albus realizes that he's put a charm on for them to be ignored—until they're in the middle of a town, once again. However, there are no sticks and hay this time, and there is more than just two men settling the punishment. Instead, all of the towns people are throwing rocks at two thin girls who are bruised and bleeding, crying into each other's arms.

"Stop it!" shouts one of the townswomen. "You are a disgrace to females everywhere! You are not to be with each other!"

The two girls continue crying.

"Disgusting!" spits one of the men, throwing a particularly large rock at the girl on the right. The girl on the left brings her arm up to shield her. The man laughs and throws another, and the girl on the left winces when it leaves a nasty cut on her arm, causing her to bleed profusely.

Albus shivers again. He glances at Gellert, who looks just as repulsed as he feels.

"What is this?" he whispers to Gellert, as they stand at the side, watching them.

Gellert's lips curl into a sneer. "Muggles," he says. "This is how they treat us. This is how they treat our kind."

Albus glances to the two girls. They don't look like they can last long.

"Should we help them?" he asks Gellert.

Gellert shakes his head. "They're Muggles," he says. Then he takes Albus's hand again. "Come on."

For a third time, they are transported into the air, and the next thing Albus knows, he's in his backyard again. He collapses onto his hands and knees, still shaking from what he had just seen.

He hears Gellert rest beside him. A hand touches his back.

"Are you okay, Albus?"

"I'm fine," Albus manages. He'd thought he'd seen everything in the world. But Muggles do things he's never even thought of dreaming of. Horrible things.

"Are you sure?" Gellert sounds concerned.

Albus nods, and looks up to him. "I'm fine," he says. "It's just... it really is for the Greater Good, isn't it? Getting rid of the Muggles." He stands up so he's eye-to-eye with Gellert.

He can see the passion shining in Gellert's eyes.

"You really understand," Gellert whispers.

He takes Albus's face in his hand and kisses him gently, then pulls away. His curls shine in the sunlight. Pink is washed over his cheeks.

"This is all for us," he whispers, breath on Albus's lips.

Albus smiles at him.

"For us."


End file.
